In which John's blog becomes a diary of Sherlock's love life
by brookenado
Summary: A year and half after the Fall, Sherlock has reentered John's life. Only, John begins suspect that something's off with Sherlock - beyond his normal eccentricities. And what does Molly have to do with it? Of course, for all his brilliance, it'll come down to John to knock some sense into Sherlock. - A Sherlolly story, written from John's POV


**My first foray into fanfiction - I've finally taken the plunge from simply reading and enjoying other's works. It's taken me long enough, but Sherlock has finally kicked me into creative writing gear. Helpful reviews are most welcomed and appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!**

**Pairing: Sherlolly**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to the BBC and the wonderful Sherlock team**

**In which John's blog becomes a diary of Sherlock's love life**

Sherlock is alive – alive! The git. It has been a few months now since his 'resurrection' and subsequent move back into Baker Street. I have to admit, it was tough and I was pretty pissed off at him for the first few weeks, but we've settled back into our old routine. And…it's good to have him back in my life, experiments and all.

What still puzzles me is how Molly Hooper, of all people, managed to put up with Sherlock for the past year and half! Apparently, after helping him fake his death - no minor feat, I'm sure, Molly opened her door to him as well. From my understanding, Sherlock stayed with her most of the time, minus a few weeks here and there in which he disappeared to God knows where.

Molly. The two of us grew quite close after his 'death'. I admit, without her help I may have sunk back into the pit of despair I'd so recently found my way out of. She's a good person and I cherish her as a very good friend these days. I do not hold her responsible for her part in Sherlock's charade, no. Honestly, I admire her for it - and now I have someone to gripe with about that man's absurdities! Then there's the fact of her introducing me to Mary…

Stay focused, Watson. Right. So what I've come to notice is an interesting shift in my dear flatmate's demeanor of late. At first I tacked it on to the entire Moriarty debacle and his reclaiming his spot as the world's only consulting detective (of course). Yet lately, I think that perhaps…well, let provide you with the _evidence_, shall we call it.

Upon his return to 221B, Sherlock has tended to mope and gripe about this and that. I figured he was simply being his moody self. He started complaining about food, even. The man hardly eats! I wasn't a good enough cook, and even some of Mrs. Hudson's treats were 'not quite right'. I admit now, this should have rung a bell in the first place.

It was odd though. In the first month of his return, he was constantly dragging me to the morgue. _Experiments, John. New body, John_. This, in itself, was not odd at all. But when we arrived at St Bart's, I noticed that he would always try to get rid of me for more lengthy periods of time.

I mean, why bother making me come? At least it gave me an excuse to go and visit Mary.

Yet on the days I managed to hang around the morgue he always appeared…_pleased_…when Molly stayed nearby or helped him with a case or experiment. Though not quite as aloof as he was with her previous to 'the Fall', he remained clipped and to the point in their interactions. This behavior which seemed at odds with one another confused me.

And then he found excuses not to go to the morgue. The man is a never ending puzzle. It has been off and on like this since his return, and I just now begin to think I understand why. He would go almost everyday one week, then send me off to gather data for him for a week or two at a time. It was these 'off weeks' that he tended to keep to himself, spending more time in his 'mind palace' or in his room and just being generally quite irritable.

There are times when I catch his thumb hovering over the 'send' button of his phone, practically hearing the war going on inside that brain of his of whether to actually press it or not. Every time he ends up pocketing the phone, only to look pull it out again later and resume the debate. I keep trying to catch what he's written, but he keeps it closely guarded.

Yet, my clue came just the other night. And I think I know who the message is intended for, should he find the courage to actually send it. I'd been out on a date with Mary and I think Sherlock wasn't expecting me home at all that night. But after a very successful date, if I do say so, we called it a night as she was working early the following morning.

As I entered 221B, I heard the violin which only meant Sherlock was playing again. He still played at odd hours of the night, but he played less openly in my presence as of late. So as I climbed the stairs I listened in, which in turn caused me to slow my step and delay my entrance.

Sherlock was composing again, of that I was certain straight off. The melody was sweet, but with an underlying depth. He played steadily, as if with a persistent undertone of strength and vibrancy. And it occurred to me as I listened that it reminded very much of a certain person. _Molly_. This song is all Molly.

And then the sweetness would be interrupted with an intensity like a warring battlefield. Things have since begun to fall into place in my mind. As I anticipated, Sherlock stopped playing abruptly upon my entry into the sitting room.

There you have it, then, the evidence. It all makes sense, now, and I can only say that he is an ever greater git than I previously imagined. At any rate, I've come to my conclusions and intend to broach the subject with Sherlock. What I need is a plan of attack. And luck.

_**Later that week - -**_

"John I need you to go down to the morgue for me today, collect the data on my latest experiments, you know. And see if you can't get anymore fingers as well – fresh, if you please. Oh, and we're out of milk."

"Sherlock, no." John signed in annoyance. _Here he goes again, trying to avoid the morgue, and thus, Molly._ "Check on your experiments yourself. You can't avoid Molly forever – sooner or later you're going to lose her if you do."

"I beg your pardon, John?"

"Look, I heard you playing the violin the other night and Molly was clearly in your thoughts."

"Don't be-"

"Don't try to deny it, Sherlock." _Ok, so this wasn't how I was planning for this conversation to go but it is probably the best opportunity I'm going to get._ He walked up and poked Sherlock in the chest to make his point. "You miss her. You got used to living with her and I'm guessing that you have finally realized you have feelings like the rest of us!"

"John, don't deduce. It doesn't suit you." _Oh, so he was going to play ignorant was he?_

"It suits me fine. Now stop being such a complete arse and just ask her out already! You know she likes you, or at least did before she had to put up with you constantly for over a year" He was starting to trail off.

Sherlock simply folded his arms and harrumphed. "I'll do no such thing. I feel nothing but gratitude towards her." _Right. Now he's just being petulant._

"Oh, bollocks. You've been extremely moody since you moved back in and just a bit off. Why do you suddenly crave specific types of food? Why is it that one week you are eager to see her at work, and the next you become worse than an angsty teenager, composing music about her and warring with yourself on whether or not to send her a text every hour of every day? You even asked if we could get a pet – specifically a cat, I might add – the other day! Who else owns a cat that you may be well acquainted with, hmm? Tell me that, Sherlock."

At John's outburst Sherlock remained silent and seemingly contemplative. _Victory_.

"Seriously, Sherlock, it's ok to feel attracted to someone, and it's ok to be human. I think being in a relationship, especially with Molly, will do you some good. Just…think about properly asking her out.

_**A month later - - **_

Well, I think I actually managed it this time. I, John Watson, knocked some sense into Sherlock Holmes. And to think, it took him all this time to figure out he was in love with _his_ pathologist, Molly Hooper.

That woman deserves a damn medal. All the crap she's taken from Sherlock over the years, all the help she's given him without asking anything in return. I can't even imagine the pain she went through, taking all of this while being selflessly in love with him. I can only admire the kind of quiet strength that takes.

I've already told Sherlock that he will be given a reminder of what a black eye feels like, and more, should he not mean well with his intentions. Truth be told, though, I'm not too worried. The man is smitten.

A few dates in, and after Molly's initial cautious attitude, the two have settled into a sort of routine as a couple. I try to avoid being dragged to the morgue by Sherlock more often than not these days…a man can only take sitting through so many heated glances being thrown back and forth, you know. I actually walked in on them snogging yesterday! While it was highly satisfactory to see Sherlock's face turn an interesting shade of red, I am by no means eager to repeat the incident.

Sherlock is as much attached to Molly as she is him; perhaps more so, even. He must have been harboring feelings for her for some time now, though something tells me he couldn't figure them out for a good chunk of it.

I tell you, the man is brilliant. Just a complete idiot when it comes to relationships and his own feelings. Good thing he has one John Watson to help him through all that dreaded _sentiment_.

Now when did this blog become a damn diary of Sherlock's love life? Aw hell, it'll be worth it just to see that smug face change color again when he catches on…


End file.
